


Azati Prime: Journey's End

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-30
Updated: 2006-03-30
Packaged: 2018-08-16 04:09:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8086600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Missing scenes, 3.18 "Azati Prime."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Beta: Tami  


* * *

In the corridor of Enterprise NCC-1701-J in 2553, Captain Jonathan Archer and the time traveller Daniels debated the fate of Earth and the future of the galaxy. Before them through the viewport, they both witnessed the battle of Procyon Fiveâ€”the Federation at war with the sphere builders. 

Archer had left the Command Center, entered the turbolift and to his surprise stepped into the corridor of an unknown futuristic vessel. He was then informed by Daniels that he was onboard a future Enterprise and had been transported 400 years into the future. 

Daniels was desperately trying to talk some sense into Archer, who was stubbornly determined to carry out his mission of destroying the Xindi weapon and himself, without listening to reason. At least that's how it appeared to Daniels. His efforts in trying to convince Archer of the merits of peaceful negotiation with the Xindi weren't meeting with any success. Basically, Archer was having none of it. Damn the Federation to hell it seemed. 

Archer was in no mood to listen to the time traveller's rants or theories. He didn't care any more. He had a mission and God dammit, he was going to fulfil it! He had to save Earth. That was all that mattered. 

Daniels could sense the captain didn't trust him; he'd messed up too many times. 

In a final attempt to persuade the unbelieving captain, he showed him a family medal that belonged to a Xindi crewmember aboard this Enterprise. 

"Why are you giving this to me?" Archer asked Daniels. He seemed a little taken aback that a Xindi could be serving aboard a Starfleet vessel.

"In case you change your mind," Daniels replied. 

"I won't," the captain adamantly replied, determined not to be side tracked. 

Archer found himself in the turbolift of his own Enterprise, back in his own century. Daniels had returned him. The lift stopped and he exited out into one of the many corridors of the ship. He walked along, sifting through what Daniels had said. He looked at the medal in his hand. A Xindi on a future Enterprise. How was that possible? As he turned a corner, he met up with T'Pol and explained to her what had just occurred. 

T'Pol seemed to echo Daniels' sentiments. She didn't want Archer to go on the mission to blow up the Xindi weapon. What was even more unusual was that she wasn't displaying her usual doubts in regard to Daniels and his prophecies. That was odd. 

"I thought you were the skeptical one when it came to time travel, " he told her. 

"Our recent visit to Detroit has tempered my skepticism," she replied. 

Jonathan was amazed that she'd outwardly confessed this. She'd just admitted she believed in time travel, though he'd secretly believed she'd changed her mind after their recent trip to Michigan. He wished he'd had a chance to discuss it with her, but neither the time nor the opportunity had presented itself. He used to love teasing her about time travel. He briefly recalled a moment in her quarters late at night almost two years ago when she'd told him she still didn't believe in time travel after he'd returned from the 31st century. He'd left her room remarking, "The hell you don't." Now it seemed like centuries ago, and the man who'd uttered those words was someone very different from the Jonathan Archer he was now. 

"You should reconsider your decision, she told him. Jonathan wondered if he was imagining things, but he was certain he could hear emotion in her voice. Was she okay? She didn't sound her usual stoic self. Perhaps the Expanse had made her more emotional, he just hadn't taken the time to notice. 

"What am I supposed to do? Fly a shuttle into the system and knock on the door? Tell the Xindi we want to talk? The weapon is too close to being launched. If the situation were different, maybe I'd consider it, but I can't," he explained. 

He felt doubts creeping into his mind even as he told her this. What if Daniels was right? What if T'Pol was correct and he should think over his decision? Should he try to negotiate? What about the Xindi crewmember on the future Enterprise? His head was swimming with possibilities.

Part of him wanted to agree with her. He was experiencing an inner turmoil. An hour ago, things had seemed so clear cut: destroy the weaponâ€”save Earth. Now there were other things to consider. What if destroying the weapon did only stop them temporarily? Was it conceivable to think that by saving Earth he could in effect be destroying it? Daniels had mentioned the Federation again. Was he really that important to its formation? This hadn't been the first time Daniels had indicated that to be true. No, he couldn't deal with this now. He'd made up his mind. He couldn't waver. 

His decision to destroy the Xindi outpost was just one in a long line of recent decisions that gnawed at his conscience. The weight of the guilt became a heavier burden each day, almost an unbearable one. He pushed aside those thoughts and concentrated on what was most important: the missionâ€”to save Earthâ€”whatever the cost, even if that cost meant the end of his own life. It was a high price to pay, but there was no way in hell he'd ask anyone else to do it. Enough people had died already. He would have no one else's blood on his hands. 

He walked away from T'Pol and was about to turn the corner when he heard her voice, almost crying out to him. 

"I don't want you to die."

He stopped abruptly and turned to face her. Her eyes filled with tears, the emotion unmistakably in her voice. What was wrong? Why was T'Pol acting this way? This was so unlike her. Did she care that much? He dismissed the thought, it wasn't possibleâ€”not if current shipboard rumour were true. 

"T'Pol?" he questioned. He had a few minutes; he owed her that much. He needed to know what was wrong. He closed the space between them and took her shoulders in his hands. 

"What's wrong?" he asked in a hushed tone. 

"It's not necessary," she whispered back to him. He gazed into her beautiful green eyes. How could she torture him thus? Why was she making his departure harder than it already was? 

Her admission momentarily reminded him of his own feelings for her. 'Damn!' he thought. Hadn't he locked those away a long time ago? He thought he'd banished them to a deep dark abyss where they couldn't resurface until the mission was over. The mission was going to be over, for him at least, within the next hour or so. But still, this was not the time to deal with the fact that he loved his first officer. 

"I wish that were true," he told her, as he held onto her shoulders. 

He didn't know what else to say. He wasn't one for big speeches. His heart ached to tell her the truth, to tell her how much she meant to him. She'd been his confidante, counsellor and friend for the last three years. She'd advised him on countless missions and first contacts. Enterprise would have been lost without her guidance and knowledge. 

On a personal level, he couldn't imagine what the last three years would've been like without her in his life as both his first officer and friend. From the moment he'd awoken in Sickbay and discovered she'd ordered the ship to go to Rigel 10 during their first mission, he'd been surprised and intrigued. Her loyalty to him and her willingness to carry out his orders had astounded him. After all, while he'd been unconscious she'd been the captain, she could have done whatever she pleased. 

T'Pol noticed his half smile as he'd uttered those last words. She felt a little calmer as she revelled in the warm feeling of being held by his strong hands. She wished she could stop him somehow. She even considered telling him the truth, telling him she was sick; if that would stop him going, it would be worth suffering his condemnation, if it saved his life. 

Jonathan cursed the situation he was in and felt himself being pulled in two distinctly different directions. Captain Archer had a mission to fulfil. Jonathan wanted to make sure T'Pol was all right. She seemed far from normal at the present time. The Command Center was just around the corner, there wouldn't be anyone there now; he could talk to her in private briefly. He let go of her shoulders and said, "T'Pol, come with me."

She looked puzzled, but followed him around the corner and they walked into the Command Center. As the door closed behind them both, he began, "I don't have much time, but I'm not leaving until I know what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," she lied.

"Don't lie to me, dammit!" he raised his voice. He didn't have the luxury of debating with her or dealing with her denials when the clock was ticking away. T'Pol was a little taken aback by his tone. 

"I'm upset about you leaving," she explained. Surely he would understand that. 

"I can see that, but it isn't like you to make your feelings so visible to others," he said. 

"Captain, there is no reason to be concerned for me," she stated trying to make her voice sound as devoid of emotion as possible. 

"T'Pol, I'm leaving the ship in your hands, I need to know you'll take care of her and my crew." As well as being worried for her, he wanted to make sure she was the right one to leave in command of Enterprise. 

"I can perform my duties adequately, " she assured him. He was half convinced. He knew she would be a capable captain, but her emotional display in the corridor still had him worried. 

"So, are you going to explain your emotional outburst to me or not?" There was a demanding tone in his voice. 

"I'm overwhelmed, Captain. I apologize. It's my own fault. I've been neglecting my evening meditation of late. That's all, " she lied. She figured that would be a satisfactory explanation. He'd never guess the real reason. 

Jonathan wondered why she would neglect something so important to her. He knew meditation was part of her daily ritual and essential to her well-being. He felt a little guilty. Maybe he'd kept her so busy lately, she'd been exhausted after her shifts and gone straight to bed. 

"I'm sorry, T'Pol, " he whispered. "I'm sorry for everything. I wish it had all been different. " T'Pol looked up and noticed tears in his eyes. His voice was also laced with emotion. 

The couple stared at each other for a moment. In another time, another place, maybe they could have confessed their true feelings and fallen into each other's arms. But fate had no intention of being that kind. One of them had an appointment with the grim reaper and the other had a ship to take command of. 

Archer broke the moment by speaking. "I should go," he told her. "I still need Travis to show me the controls of the insectoid shuttle."

T'Pol gathered herself together. "Of course, sir," she agreed. Jonathan walked toward the door and was about to exit, when he stopped and turned around. 

"T'Pol?"

"Yes?" she asked. 

"You're one hell of a first officer. I'd have been lost without you these last three years. I just want you to know that. "

Before she had a chance to reply, he left. As she wondered if that was her last conversation with her captain, she felt her errant emotions surface again.

* * *

"400 meters. 200. He's passing through the grid. He's in," Reed informed the bridge crew as they watched the insectoid shuttle zoom out of view. 

"Give 'em hell, Captain," Trip said, as the shuttle disappeared from the viewscreen. 

T'Pol could feel her emotions rising to the surface and feared she might break down in front of the crew. 

"I'll be in the Ready Room," she announced and exited the bridge. 

As she entered Archer's ready room, she felt like she was going to come apart at the seams. She breathed in the room's odor, it was filled with his familiar scent. How many hours over the last three years had she spent in here with him? Talking, debating, deciding. 

She walked over to the porthole and looked out at the starsâ€”the stars that he loved so much. He should be here, exploring them. That's what he'd wanted; it had been his life's dream. Instead what was he doing? Piloting a shuttle to his death to save Earth. He was being noble and self-sacrificing. But wasn't that how he'd always been? 

He'd been there for her so many times, starting with their first away mission together on Rigel 10. He'd gone back for her on the platform and had been shot in the process. Then another time he'd helped her to keep her emotions together when they'd gone to capture Menos. A year ago, he'd fought for her on Dekendi III in front of the Vulcan doctors. 

She gripped the window and tried to control her breathing. What would her life be like now? A world with no Jonathan Archer in it. It seemed incomprehensible. How would she carry on? Why hadn't he listened? She wished she'd been more persuasive, she wished somehow she could have got through to him and changed his mind. But he wasn't that kind of man. Once he'd made a decision, he couldn't be swayed. 

She felt overwhelmed with different emotions. She experienced a sadness that was threatening to swallow her up. She felt anger at his stupidity and stubbornness. And she felt regret. He was going to his death and he didn't know. She hadn't told him. He'd die thinking she didn't care. She wanted him to know...to know...what? That she loved him. Yes, she admitted it to herself. The emotion was so strong it had almost overpowered her in the corridor, as she had pleaded with him not to go on his suicide mission. 

She could hardly believe it herself, that she was experiencing this alien emotion. An emotion she knew nothing of, but concluded it had to be that. Vulcans don't feel love, she told herself. Yet she remembered what V'Lar had told her.

_"They're our emotions as well."_

The woman was wise. She had picked up on the bond between Archer and T'Pol even in those early days. T'Pol had been vaguely aware of her growing attachment to her captain, but it had only been within the space of the last few hours that she'd felt the emotion's overpowering hold on her. She wished now that she'd told him, and realized she'd never have that chance now. 

She could feel the tears coming to the surface. This was so alien to her. She didn't cry. She wasn't supposed to feel either. Yet the hollow feeling in her stomach and the pain in her chest were very real indications that she was experiencing powerful emotions. 

T'Pol turned from the window, leaned against the bulkhead and glanced around the room. The despair she was filled with was terrifying. 'What shall I do, Jonathan?' she thought. Never in her life had she felt so totally lost and unsure of herself. Not only did she feel totally alone without his presence on board, she also felt unsure of taking his place. How could she guide this crew to safety in her condition? Why had he left her with such a responsibility? Why hadn't he noticed she was in no state to command the ship? How could he have left her? Didn't he know how much she needed him? How much the crew needed him?

She could no longer hold back her water-filled eyes. She blinked and a stray tear rolled down her face. She wiped it away with her finger. 

T'Pol knew she had to do something or she would go stark raving mad. . She moved over to his chair and sat down at his desk. She pondered if perhaps going back to the Bridge might be a better idea. 

It was torture sitting in here, but she wasn't ready yet to wear a mask of calmness for the crew. Memories of times past kept flooding back to her. She saw images of herself and him. How often had he stood at the porthole, turned and smiled at her? She would have to live off her memories of him and their times together; it was all she had left. 

"Jonathan..." she whispered into the air. She wished she'd had the chance to call him once by his first name and watch his eyes light up with delight. Tears were threatening to spill again. She fully acknowledged this was all her own fault of course. She should have gone to Phlox weeks ago about her problem. But she couldn't think about it now, she'd deal with it later. Jonathan's departure was all she could manage to process at this moment. 

She turned on the computer and gazed aimlessly at the screen. His log from only a few hours ago was still on there. He'd just sent a report to Starfleet informing them of Enterprise's position and the destruction of the Xindi lunar outpost. 

The minutes seemed to crawl. Waiting to hear of the explosion on the surface was agonizing.

* * *

Jonathan sighed deeply as the insectoid shuttle exited the launch bay doors and into space, heading for the planet. There was no turning back now. Part of him wished he could see Enterprise one last time as it slowly disappeared from view. 

It wasn't just a starship to him; it was much more. It was part of him and part of his father's legacy. Having been deprived of his father's company in his early twenties, every new day on Enterprise had brought him closer to his father's memory. Whenever he saw Trip in front of the warp five engine, he'd always reminisce about his father and the hours the man spent hunched over a desk stacked with engine plans.

Yes, Enterprise was a lot more than warp engines, hull plating, bulkheads, and nuts and bolts to him. She represented the fulfilment of his father's dream. He'd often wished that his father had lived to see Enterprise leave space dock. While thrilled at the chance to explore space, he'd felt a tinge of sadness that day, almost three years ago, when they'd left Earth to take Klaang back to Qu'onos. Jonathan knew his father would have been overjoyed to see his life's work come to fruition. 

Jonathan glanced at the control panel, everything seemed in order. He knew he had a flight time of approximately twenty minutes before reaching the weapon. These would probably be the longest twenty minutes of his life. 

Travis' brief tutorial on piloting the insectoid shuttle had paid off. He was getting the handle of this strange vehicle. But then being a pilot had been his first love. From the time his father had given him The Flyer, all he'd ever wanted to do was leave the ground far behind him to navigate the skies and explore space. He remembered graduation day from Flight Schoolâ€”how proud his father had been of him; it had been the first steppingstone to fulfilling Henry Archer's dream. 

Jonathan wondered what his father would have thought if he knew he was flying to his death at this very minute. Would he understand? His father's dream had taken a backseat since the Xindi had attacked earth and Henry's engine had been used in war, not exploration. 

Jonathan's palms were sweaty and his throat was dry. His stomach was in knots. He was still feeling that inner turmoil which he hadn't been able to shake off. He was still wondering whether he'd made the best decision. What if Daniels was right?

_"If you destroy their weapon, they'll only build another. You are the only one who can convince them of what I have told you. It is crucial to history that you do not sacrifice yourself."_

He could hear Daniels words repeating inside his head. His doubts were rising. Crucial to historyâ€”why? He didn't understand his importance; he wished Daniels' had been more forthcoming. What if this sacrifice wasn't necessary? Was he doing this solely to pay for his sins?

He hated who he'd become. He didn't recognise himself anymore. Where was Jonathan Archer and who was this stranger who'd replaced him? Jonathan Archer was an explorer, not a man of war. Jonathan Archer didn't create clones and kill innocent people. He could feel his eyes smarting as he recalled the deeds his conscience plagued him continuously about. 

_"I don't want you to die."_

T'Pol. His mind turned to thoughts of her. Her emotional outburst in the corridor had unhinged him. He pondered if she'd been telling him the truth. He couldn't remember her ever being so emotional, well except when he'd gone to see her in Sickbay after returning from the Seleya. She'd asked him to drop her off on a habitable planet, but he wouldn't hear of it. She'd had tears in her eyes then. But why today? Would lack of meditation really cause her to act this way? 

He was touched to think she cared for him so. He'd had no idea. However, he was uncertain how she cared for him. Were her feelings platonic or could there possibly be more? There'd been brief moments in their time together over the last three years where he'd thought he'd caught a glimpse of something more...but then he'd tell himself he was being foolish and reading into things. 

Of course he knew what his own feelings for her were. He'd acknowledged them over a year ago. At first it had just been attraction and he'd shrugged that off. That was normal. She was a beautiful woman, more than half the male crew on Enterprise were probably attracted to her. But then he discovered she'd wormed her way into his heart. It was no longer infatuation, but something far deeper and more dangerous. 

It had been during their visit to Dekendi III that he'd realized the extent of his feelings for her. He'd suspected something for quite some time, but when faced with the possibility of losing her, he'd known that he couldn't give her up without a fight. He'd used those exact words to her, in her quarters as she'd packed to leave. He recalled with delight, the joy he'd felt when he'd heard that she wasn't going to be recalled. He'd wanted to say something to her that day after the hearing with the Vulcan doctors, but he knew it wasn't appropriate. Instead, he'd stood by the porthole in his ready room and told her he didn't want to lose her. He wasn't actually professing his love, but it had been as close to a confession as his command position permitted. 

He'd allowed another opportunity to slip by when she'd come to his ready room and informed him that she didn't want to return to Vulcan just before they entered the Expanse. She'd told him that she'd resigned her commission and wished to remain onboard as the first officer. Her exact words had been, "You need me,"â€”that had been his cue, but he'd remained silent. And she'd been right. He did need her, he'd always needed her...from the moment she'd come aboard three years ago. 

Now he wondered how different the mission would have been if that day he had spoken his mind. She hadn't been part of the High Command anymore, would it really have been that wrong for them to get involved? Ah, he was assuming again that she returned his feelings. Her little outburst in the corridor today had lulled him into believing his foolish romantic notions again. 'Why are you so sentimental?' he asked himself. Was it that death was just around the corner? Was that why he was allowing himself to travel down memory lane, to churn up all his old feelings, all their shared moments?

For a tenth of a second, when he'd heard her cry out, "I don't want you to die," in the corridor he'd been tempted to abandon everything and just be with her. Well his selfish side had, and it had ached to explore what those words implied. He knew he was fantasizing again, but what he would give to hear her say those three words. The three words a Vulcan would probably never utter: I love you. 

He wondered if she even had an inkling as to how he felt about her. Did she know? Did she realize to what extent he needed her? And that he'd wanted more from her? 

What would she have thought if she knew he loved her? Would she be uncomfortable? Would it have made their work relationship difficult? Or would she, by some miracle, tell him she felt the same way? Well, he guessed he'd never know the answers to any of these questions. He'd blown all his chances. T'Pol would never know how he felt. He'd take that secret to his grave.

He glanced at the console to try to clear his head of these errant memories and thoughts. He was only going to torture himself further if he continued to reminisce and think of the what-could-have-beens. 

As he approached the planet, he could see the vast water-world in front of him. This was the last leg of his journey. It had taken them almost nine months to get this far. It had been a long, tiring journey fraught with danger. Now it was coming to a head, and for him it was the journey's end. 

_"If you destroy their weapon, they'll only build another..."_

His thoughts flitted back to Daniels' words just as the shuttle plunged into the ocean's depths. The prospect of Daniels' being right, that the destruction of the weapon would only be a temporary setback to the Xindi, was unfathomable. But what if it was true? He felt so unsure; doubt nagged at him. He knew Degra was at the underwater facility, but he could hardly just fly the shuttle in, walk in and demand to speak to the weapon's creator. He wished there was an easier way. He was a peaceful man by nature, he hated the idea of war. He hated the cards fate had dealt him. 

He was nearing the weapon's location. He'd need to deploy the torpedoes now. He saw the firing mechanism on the console in front of him, just where Travis had pointed it out to him. All he had to do was press the button and it would be over. But he was hesitating. He was uncertain. 

A voice came over the comm. "Unauthorized vessel, power down immediately." The shuttle shook as it was fired upon.

* * *

Trip sat at his console on the Bridge; he felt a little in shock. None of this seemed real. Perhaps it was a bad dream and he'd wake up soon. Maybe it had all been a nightmare from the Xindi attack onwards. How he wished he could just wake up and Earth be intact, Lizzie be alive and Jonathan Archer still be captain of the Enterprise, and the explorer he'd always wanted to be. But he knew he was fooling himself, this was no dream. It was stark reality. 

He'd watched T'Pol walk into the captain's ready room about ten minutes ago. He disapproved of her decision. Her place was on the Bridge. Right now the crew were vulnerable, like lost children. Their commander of almost three years, whom they'd followed blindly into the Expanse, was gone. They needed someone in his chair to give them moral support. Trip felt a tinge of anger at her disappearance. How could she let the crew down? Didn't she know they needed her?

He'd been on autopilot for most of the day. On the outside he appeared normal and calm, almost un-phased by the fact that his captain and best friend had just left on a one-way mission. A one-way mission. He repeated the words in his head. Jonathan Archer was not coming back. There would be no more late night drinks in the Captain's Mess. There would be no more water polo matches to watch together. There would be nothing. Within the next twenty minutes or so Jonathan Archer would cease to exist. 

Trip felt a lump in his throat. Realization was slamming into him and it hurt like hell. From the moment the captain had announced he was going to be the one flying the mission, Trip had pushed his personal feelings and emotions to one side. Travis had volunteered and Trip had done so too, but the captain had been adamant. No one was going but him. 

Trip knew Archer wouldn't appreciate him trying to talk him out of his decision. He needed to be supportive of his captain, regardless of his own personal feelings. It hadn't been easy though. If anything, his biggest regret was not getting a moment alone to say goodbye. But he knew it would have been too difficult, and he wanted to spare his captain that. Archer had said on the Bridge he hated goodbyesâ€”he'd done his utmost to avoid them. Trip had listened intently to each word. Archer had encouraged them to go back to exploration, and had told them how proud he was of each and every one of them. 

He glanced at his console. Twenty minutes had passed. He was sure they'd register something soon. His gut felt tight. The atmosphere on the Bridge was unnerving, if it wasn't for the hum of the impulse engines, you'd have heard a pin drop. 

So many things had changed since entering the Expanse. Trip had noticed how Archer had isolated himself more and more from the crew. How he'd spent countless hours on and off duty locked up in the Command Center. He'd never known Jonathan Archer could be so driven, so obsessive. There'd been brief glimpses of the man he'd come to call his friend, but sadly those moments had been few and far between. 

There were many things he'd wanted to discuss with him, one of the topics being Sim. They'd never sat down and talked about that. Trip had wondered why his friend hadn't visited him in sickbay after recovering from the surgery. He'd seemed to avoid him. Once Trip had got back to duty, they still hadn't had time for that talk. Trip could feel the distance that had grown between them. He'd missed their camaraderie. Now of course they'd never have that talk. 

Trip studied the console once more. Still nothing. The sensors were picking up no activity, no explosions on the surface. Thirty minutes had already elapsed, what was going on? Had the Captain failed?

He looked around the Bridge, one could cut the tension with a knife. His thoughts went back to T'Pol. Why wasn't she here? He wasn't going to put up with this. Her place was on the Bridge. Wasn't she concerned that that they hadn't heard anything yet? Just what was she doing locking herself up in the ready room?

He decided enough was enough. He was going to see her and find out what was going on.

* * *

Jonathan Archer found himself in a Xindi detention cell on the planet in the underwater city. His head was pounding. His arms were almost numb from being suspended in the air by shackles. His wrists ached and his face was bloodied and bruised. He could feel blood trickling down his cheek as the reptilian hit him in the face again. As he licked his lips, he tasted blood on them. 

He remained resilient and arrogant. He could tell he was getting right under the reptilian commander's skin. He continued to bait him. He wasn't sure why he was doing this, but it made him feel goodâ€”he had nothing to lose. As the reptilian relayed the story of his fellow officer who had piloted the weapon that initially attacked Earth, murdering seven million of its inhabitants, Jonathan could feel anger and hatred coursing through his veins. To counteract this feeling he continued with his barrage of insults. 

The reptilian had had enough and grabbed Archer by the throat. Jonathan could barely breath, but his spirit was not diminished. 

"You want me to kill you," he stated.

"Just making conversation," Jonathan spat out. "Relaying a few interesting facts...about the world you're trying to destroy." 

"I'll reciprocate with an interesting fact of my own," the reptilian informed him. Suddenly he grabbed Archer from behind, yanking his head violently back and digging his nails into the human's forehead. Jonathan was taken aback by this sudden move and the resulting pain. 

"We know exactly where your ship is," the reptilian taunted. 

Jonathan's neck and head ached as they were held at an awkward angle. The reptilian had also grabbed his left arm, causing his wrists to feel like they were going to be dislocated at any moment, as the shackles tugged tightly on them. He gasped in pain, exhaling the air from his lungs in short sharp breaths. 

"Is that so?" he asked. On the outside, he was trying to remain calm and appear unaffected by this latest information. Inside he could feel the seeds of trepidation and fear being sown. Was it true? Did the Xindi know Enterprise's location? Surely, T'Pol would have left the area by now. 

The reptilian continued, informing Archer that when they'd lost contact with the lunar outpost, they scanned the area and discovered Enterprise hiding. He threatened to destroy the ship if Archer didn't co-operate.

Jonathan felt sick to the pit of his stomach. It had all been for nothing! He'd destroyed the outpost in cold blood, hoping to ensure Enterprise's safety and all it had done was alert the reptilians of their presence. Dammit! It seemed he just couldn't win. 

T'Pol had informed him of the outpost's presence. If he didn't act, he'd run the risk of discovery. At the time he'd felt he had only one choice, as much as he despised himself for making it. He hadn't had the luxury of time to agonize over his decision and had ordered the outpost's destruction without pondering alternate options. Now the decision came back to haunt himâ€”he'd sealed Enterprise's fate. 

"I hope you had a chance to say goodbye to your crew," the reptilian told him. 

Jonathan felt panic engulf him. What should he do? Was the reptilian bluffing? Did he really know where Enterprise was? He searched his mind, trying to think up his next move. Then he remembered the Xindi medal in his jumpsuit. He decided to give Daniels' plan a go, and requested to speak to Degra. 

Within ten minutes, the weapon designer arrived. Jonathan relayed to him what Daniels had said. Degra seemed mildly convinced. At least he was reasonable and listened. He took the Xindi medal from Archer's uniform pocket and left to go analyze it, leaving Archer alone in his cell. 

Jonathan pondered the events of the last hour or so. He felt like he was living on borrowed time. If all had gone according to plan, he should have been dead right now. Why had fate allowed him to live? Had it been fate or had he just not had the nerve to detonate the torpedoes? He wasn't sureâ€”the last few seconds before he was fired upon in the insectoid shuttle seemed hazy. He guessed he had hesitated. Perhaps Daniels' words had sowed doubts that were too strong to be ignored. 

But what was going on with Enterprise? He couldn't believe T'Pol hadn't ordered the ship to leave the area. Just what was she waiting for? Had he misjudged her ability to captain the ship? Yes, she'd been very emotional just before his departure, but he'd made his wishes clear to her. If she'd felt she couldn't handle the responsibility of command she should have said so. But, he doubted she would have. What was going on with her? Was it just him leaving that had upset her so much? As much as he wanted to believe that, his knowledge of Vulcans told him otherwise. Something was amiss, and he deeply regretted not having the chance to investigate further. 

His heart was beating rapidly as the after effects of his earlier adrenaline surge were still felt. The hormone had helped him get through his latest beating and had given him an edge when dealing with the reptilian. He ached all over, though it was his head, neck and wrists that hurt the most. He was thirsty; he hadn't had anything to drink since leaving Enterprise. He swallowed some saliva in an effort to quench his thirst. He wondered what fate had in store for him now. 

For some reason he had a faint glimmer of hope. His conversation with Degra had gone better than he'd expected, and he felt he'd made some headway. Degra seemed to be a reasonable man, open minded, just someone who'd been lead astray by the lies of the sphere builders. 

The door to the cell opened and Degra and his fellow council members filtered in. Degra ordered one of them to unshackle Archer. Jonathan thanked him. His arms had grown numb from being restrained. He stretched them out, trying to undo some of the kinks. 

Degra's companion asked Archer what he proposed. 

"That we trust each other," Jonathan responded. 

He had a good feeling that his earlier comments had caused them to doubt what they'd been told by the sphere builders. Maybe negotiation was an option after all. Jonathan continued with his argument, telling them they were fighting the wrong enemy. He even asked to speak to the Xindi council, though Degra felt this was implausible, stating that the council would rather execute Archer than listen to him. 

"Then help me change their minds," Jonathan responded. 

"You haven't changed ours," retorted one of the Xindi council members. 

"I made an impression...or you wouldn't still be here," Jonathan returned. He felt like he was getting somewhere. Well, at least they were talking and listening to him. 

A few moments later the reptilian commander and his consorts entered. They had Archer restrained back in the shackles. The reptilian had grown tired of waiting and informed the cell's occupants that Enterprise was under attack. Any survivors would be joining Archer at a Xindi detention center.

"Survivors?" Jonathan gasped. This couldn't be happening. His hopes from a few minutes ago lay shattered in ruins. It seemed Degra and the other Xindi humanoids had no control over the rebellious reptilians. Degra attempted to reason with the reptilian, but to no avail. 

"I'll assemble the Council," he said as he was escorted out of the cell at gunpoint.

"By the time you do, the Earth ship will be dust," the reptilian replied.

The reptilian's words spelled horror to Archer. He was alone in the cell now. Enterprise was going to be reduced to dust? His ship, his crew, his friendsâ€”Trip, T'Polâ€”gone, just like that, in the blink of an eye? Were they even alive at this moment? No, it couldn't be possible. Or could it? 

He could feel tears stinging his eyes. The lump in his throat made it hard to breath. Why? He just couldn't get his head around the why. How could T'Pol have allowed this to happen? Nothing made sense. Why had Trip gone along with her orders? 

He couldn't even begin to fathom the idea of spending the rest of his life as a lone survivor in some Xindi detention camp. That would be a fate worse than death. 

His mind began to torture him with images of Enterprise being torn to shreds by a Xindi armada. How many Xindi vessels were there? Would they decimate his ship? The reptilian said there would be nothing left but dust. He imagined explosions all over the ship. He thought of T'Pol sitting on the Bridge amidst the confusion. He imagined Reed shouting out information, telling her about hull breaches. He saw Trip running around Engineering trying to minimise the damage, control coolant leaks and battle fires and explosions. 

He gathered all hell was breaking loose about now. He wanted to be there, with his crew, his family. They were the only family he'd known. Oh God, this was agony! 

So was this how Daniels had foreseen it? Is this what his crystal ball or whatever time travel monitoring device he used had told him was going to occur? From the look of things the outlook was very bleak. So what about this Federation he'd spoken of? How could he help in its formation if he was going to spend the rest of his life as a prisoner of the Xindi? How could Earth be saved now if Enterprise was being torn apart? Had Daniels messed up again and misinformed him?

He felt bile rise up from his stomach, which made him cough violently. When was this nightmare going to end? His emotional anguish now outweighed his physical pain. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes.

* * *

Enterprise was coming down around her ears. For the first time in her Vulcan life T'Pol understood the human expression "petrified." She felt totally helpless. She'd failed. The captain had left the ship in her hands and she'd failed him. She shouldn't have waited. She'd used bad judgement. Her thinking has been marred by her emotions. Now the whole crew were paying for her earlier indecision. 

She'd wanted to go down to the surface and try to negotiate. After hearing nothing from the Captain and waiting the designated hour, she'd felt that was her final option. She'd felt compelled to find out what had happened to Archer. It was almost a driving force within her that she had no control over. If she'd stayed any longer in his ready room she'd have gone insane. She'd known Tucker would be against the decision, but she didn't care. She'd been focused only on one thingâ€”get to the planet and find the Captain. 

It was just before she entered a shuttlepod that Reed had informed her there was no need to go to the Xindi. They'd come to Enterprise instead and negotiation was not on their agenda. Her plan to discover the Captain's fate had had to be shelved and she'd returned to the bridge. 

The Xindi were ruthless in their attack, several ships firing on Enterprise's hull simultaneously. Reed informed her of the hull breaches and that the bulkheads weren't responding. The Bridge was coming apart right in front of her. She had no idea what to doâ€”never in the course of her lengthy career had she felt so helpless and unsure. 

For a brief moment she thought of Jonathan. What had happened to him? Was he still alive? Did he know what was happening? She hoped he didn't; she feared he would be deeply disappointed in her inability to take care of his ship and crew. She hadn't done as he'd requested. He had such faith in her and believed she was competent and she'd betrayed his trust. 

Sparks flew across the consoles. She stared on in disbelief as flames half a metre high engulfed the helm area. This couldn't be happening, but she knew it was. It seemed surreal. 

Was this Enterprise's last stand?


End file.
